Father’s Day
Each Father’s Day I see him
with his umbilical cord in search of
a goddess
how his black panther stalked
desperate for a socket for that old cord
how the sea foam that brought
Aphrodite ashore
was rabies to his mouth &
the bit between his teeth
threshed, a shark scything fields
of green, how hope &
seduction took him down
(the face of Venus
silent and bewitching &
closer than kin )
a path of stone & thorn
Desire is a reel thing — one bite
& you’re hooked for eons-
its potion & spell files the soul
to fine point like a single nail
I am looking for a world that has
nothing to do with here &
knows everything about now
Time has put furrows in my head &
feet but will not
let me back down
I carry hope like a salute
an old door jamb in my other hand
I followed him like a sun but his
light led straight to hell
until finally I found a coracle
made for Tristan
& set the old man adrift
back to the Emerald Isle
COPYRIGHT Simon Heathcote